


Gods of Sin

by jaeren



Series: (Spicy)Shots by jaeren [7]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Dominant Armin, F/M, God Armin, Goddess Reader, Manipulative Armin, Mild Angst, Modern with Greek Myth Influence, Oral Sex, Powerful Armin, Powerful Reader, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Submissive Armin, Switch Armin, Switch Reader, Vaginal Sex, degradation kink, magical choking, touch of god complexes but only because of situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaeren/pseuds/jaeren
Summary: You, a minor goddess of sin in the Underworld, are dared to prove your worth via one assignment: corrupting Armin Arlert. But who’s doing the corrupting?
Relationships: Armin Arlert & Reader, Armin/Reader
Series: (Spicy)Shots by jaeren [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108535
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Gods of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> fun n fantasy ~ gift fic for hitting 1k followers on tumblr (sorry for delaying posting to ao3)

His t-shirt rides up as he lifts his arms up high, trying to grab a book from the topmost shelf. You lick your lips at the expanse of skin revealed, the trail of hair that leads your line of sight downwards. 

Your eyes flit up back to his eyes, a gleam of triumph in his eyes when he succeeds, book tumbling into his arms. You’re all too delighted by this boy and his every little action. This boy.

Armin Arlert. 

“My assignment,” you say, whispering the words slowly such that the last syllable of the “t” is accentuated. You suck on your top row of teeth, thinking how to approach this. 

Your friends, other minor gods and goddesses of sin, had remarked that the only reason you had a high success rate for manipulating humans into the Underworld was because of how little you involved yourself with mortal matters. Annoyed, you had claimed you could sway  _ anyone _ . And so, poor and innocent Armin Arlert’s thread of life was randomly chosen… 

Lucky for you, though, it seemed that you would succeed quite easily. 

“Sucks for them,” you mutter, standing, moving to approach the boy. You walk past him, covertly using a small burst of magic to drop your glamoured I.D. card as a student of Paradis University — where Armin was a third-year student — to the ground.

He calls out your name, his voice an interesting combination of something feminine and masculine at once. You turn slowly, making your eyes wide and lips parted, letting your hair sway around your face with your movement.

“Yes?”

“You dropped your card,” Armin says, holding it out with a smile. You’re amazed by how beautiful the boy is, truly. Sparking blue almond eyes framed by dark blond eyebrows that are arched just so, the swoop of a thin button nose giving way to plush lips with a sharp cupid’s bow. 

You can’t believe you’re letting yourself be fazed by a mortal. “Thank you,” you say, swallowing. 

“It’s quite alright. I lost mine lots the first couple of days,” he says, voice consoling. “I didn’t catch on your I.D. card if you were a first-year?”

You laugh, twinkling peals of amusement. “No. I’m a second-year transfer.” 

A pause. You find yourself … hesitant in the moment when he suddenly speaks.

“Are you sure about that?” Armin asks, voice deepening. Your heartbeat, something you gain whenever you walk on Earth with your human form, stutters to a stop and you become breathless.

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice squeaking.

“What do you mean?” His voice is innocent again, and you feel like you’ve deluded yourself. Maybe being back on Earth after centuries is affecting your thought process and sensory perception.

“Um. Sorry. I’m a second-year transfer, from Marley.”

His nose wrinkles. Then he winces at his behavior. “Sorry about that. Ingrained rivalry.”

You raise an eyebrow delicately. “How so? You don’t exactly look the type.” You try to covertly switch from shy to teasing.

He huffs out a laugh. “You mean sports? You’re not wrong. But I’m on mock trial, and we’re always down against Marley at nationals. Sometimes we win, sometimes they do. Plus my best friend Eren’s on the swim team and he’s pretty passionate about team rivalries.”

“Hmm,” you say observing him. You’d declined information from the Fates about Armin, wanting this truly to be something you did out of your own talent. “Mock trial?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “Joined with friends — including Eren, who I told you about — during first days when you just show up to random clubs, and just … ended up sticking to it.”

“Interesting.” The concept of a  _ fake  _ trial over a  _ fake  _ crime using  _ fake  _ scenarios didn’t seem appealing to you. You sigh without meaning to, thinking of humans and their need for conflict to the point of making it up.

A hint of an anxious frown appears on his face. “So you don’t like mock trial, I’m assuming.”

“No, no, it just sounds so — boring,” you say, deciding for partial honesty.

“It’s fun when you think about it,” Armin says. “It’s not a real situation, so you can manipulate facts however you want to to suit your position.”

“So you’re manipulative is what I’m learning here,” you say wryly.

Armin flushes, a delicious blush blooming on his cheeks. You always loved that feature on mortals, especially on boys like Armin. He looks so … flustered. As a result of your actions! Oh, this would be fun. Especially for what you had planned.

“We’re actually holding try-outs this week,” Armin says, eyes shyly straying away from you. “I could … help you prep. And then you’d see the fun of it. Especially since you’re a transfer—”

“Let’s do it,” you say brightly. Perfect. He’s playing right into your hands. The seduction card was all too easy for someone with your beauty, but something about having this boy willing and needy and desperate for your touch made you realize why so many of your brethren were found roaming on Earth instead of the Skies or in the Underworld. 

“It’s alri — oh. You want to?” He seems surprised, like he was totally not preparing for that. “You want to, huh? Okay. I live in Maria Quad, in the Shiganshina building. You?”

You frown, unprepared for your lie. You go for the first dorm you remember from scouring the campus map while waiting for him to show up to the library. 

“Um, Ehrmich building, in Sina Quad,” you say, hoping he hadn’t seen whatever was on your I.D. card. You hadn’t paid attention to your I.D. card, only making sure your name and age were correct.

“That’s amazing — how’d you get senior housing as a second-year  _ transfer _ ?” He asks, voice incredulous. “Y’know what, it’s fine. If you want, we can meet in your place. I’ve always wanted to see the Sina dorms. They’re a recent donation from Rod Reiss, so they’re supposed to be really modern looking.”

You groan inwardly. You’d have to glamour some mortal into giving them your room. Or really pull the strings and create a new room just for yourself. You decide on the latter, since glamouring mortals was a painstaking process, and nod at Armin. 

“Are you usually this forward?” you ask, tilting your head sideways. You hadn’t thought it would be this easy.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Armin asks, confused.

You sigh. He needs a little more prodding to be the dirty little thing you were aiming to make him into. “Nevermind. I’ll see you later, Armin.” 

You leave before you realize he never gave you his name. 

_ Fuck _ , you think, and just hope for the best.  _ What a mortal mistake to make. _

* * *

You’re happy with how you look right now. Wearing a tight buttery yellow top ending right at the dip of your waist, and a necklace that swoops in between your breasts, paired with some black sweats, you exude casual beauty. You didn’t want to go too crazy — just enough that his attention would linger on you, just enough that you were effortlessly beautiful. Well, you were, given that you were a goddess, but being on the mortal realm meant you had to dress up like one, too.

A knock at your door takes you out of your thoughts.

You rush to open it quickly, striding from the mirror towards the opposite end of the room where the door was.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly.

“Hi,” Armin says, voice equally breathless. “Lots of stairs leading here. More than I expected.”

You wince. You had fashioned a room in, but to do it with the least amount of magic required to conceal the sudden presence of a new room, you’d had to simply place a whole new floor at the very top. 

“Yeah. It’s supposed to be for the transfer students,” you say, shrugging, trying for nonchalance. You close the door as Armin enters, taking off his shoes at the base of your door when he notices your shoes are lined up there and you are barefoot. “But I think I’m the only one this year.”

“Interesting,” Armin says. He’s turned away from you, and you wish he was facing you so you could decode the meaning of his “interesting.” 

“So. Do you like my room?”

He turns back, smiling widely. “I really like it. It’s expertly crafted.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Meaning?”

He sits on your bed, leaning back, pushing his hair back from his eyes. He lounges on your bed gracefully, leaning back on one arm. 

And suddenly, his oversized shirt melts away to a collared silk button up, khaki slacks fading to reveal dark slacks, his sneakers fading to dress shoes. 

“For a room — no, a floor — you glamoured in a day, this is great work. Almost wouldn’t expect you to be a minor goddess,” he says, stoically breaking you down.

“Oh, fuck,” you say. 

He smiles slowly. “Yes. Oh, fuck. What brings you here? On Earth?”

“Who are you?” you ask. You let your mortal clothes fade away, too, now dressed in a loose wrap dress tied up in a halter around your neck. As a minor goddess, you don’t have the power to transition back to your full god state on Earth, so your human body remains.

Armin frowns. “Does it matter? You’re a goddess of sin, no matter how small. You belong in the Underworld. If I report you, Erwin’s — or worse, Levi — going to punish you. You know mortal interference is forbidden.”

You gasp, eyes widening. “Please. Don’t tell him,” you start, trying to be as pleading as possible, cursing your luck. Of course the person you had gotten was secretly … someone else. Of course he had connections to not just Erwin, the god of the Underworld, but Levi, the god of punishment and justice. All the minor gods and goddesses of sin avoided them like the plague, for a variety of reasons. The most important one being that they liked to interfere in mortal matters, taking on the challenge of swaying people to sin enough to land in the Underworld rather than the Eldian Fields, and Erwin and Levi excessively forbade that. 

“I won’t,” Armin starts. “But I want you to tell me why, how, and what.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Why me, how you planned to do what you wanted, and what exactly you wanted to do,” Armin says, crooking a finger at you. You gasp as you’re pulled to movement. He is powerful, you can tell, by the strength and ease at which your body travels to become closer to him, bring you right in front of him.

“Speak, girl,” Armin says, voice commanding. His voice, still that feminine-masculine drawl you were intrigued by, now oozes with power and you shiver at it.

You are floored. Firstly, by his change in character. Secondly, by the wetness pooling in between your thighs. What was this? Never ever in your life had you ever let yourself become this weak. But … a part of you wanted him to speak in his voice again. 

And so, you stay quiet. You tilt your chin up, challenging, pursing your lips.

His eyes narrow. “ _ Speak. _ I won’t ask you again.”

Your blood thrums in your veins. This was delightful. The others had always told you sex in a mortal body was like feeling life all at once. And you hadn’t even experienced  _ that _ .  _ This  _ was simply in reaction to his commands. You swallow tightly.

Something registers in Armin’s eyes. 

“Your eyes are glittering,” Armin says, voice quiet, losing that chilled forcefulness from before. He sniffs. A slow smirk grows on his face, so very uncharacteristic of his usual elegant features. “And your human body is aroused. Interesting.”

You gasp, surprised he caught that.  _ Who was he?  _ This Armin Arlert. No bells rang in your head. None whatsoever.

He calls your name again, voice low and guttural. A skip of your heart. You clench your thighs, while standing frozen in the spot you were moved to. Armin chuckles. “Now, will you tell me why you’re here on Earth?”

You placed confidence in your voice. “If you tell me why  _ you’re  _ here.”

He evaluates you. “Confidential information. Now.  _ Tell me. _ ”

You shiver again. Armin bites his lip. 

“So you like to be commanded, hmm?” He stands, and suddenly he feels so much taller than you. Like he could engulf you with his size. His mortal appearance was shed so instantly. You find yourself wondering if he was a major god — but if he was, you would have known. You would have known his name!

“Maybe,” you find yourself saying. Armin’s hands cup your face, his thumb on one side of your jaw and his fingers on the other side. He squeezes.

“Speak now.” 

You stay silent. Armin growls, becoming frustrated. He leans down and kisses you brutally, stealing your breath away and for the first time making you fear something: fearing the loss of your life. It thrills you and you are aroused to the point of pain, a different kind than anything you would have ever predicted. One that leaves your knees weak and eyes hazy, one that steals your breath and commands your heart to beat rapidly.

But you are still a goddess. And so you are able to kiss and be kissed for as long as Armin wants, no repercussions. Sure, your body still feels the feeling of losing breath, but as a result of your immortality, it feels like a heady loss of control. Nothing more. And just when you’ve gotten used to the feeling and are beginning to revel in the feeling of having no more breath to share with Armin — he lets go.

“Will you tell me now? Or will I have to punish you further?” Armin asks.

“That was a punishment?” you taunt, gasping in breath. You were never a glutton for punishment — but this man. He has changed your mind. 

With lightning quick speed, he pulls you down with him on the bed. His godlike appearance melts away, and there is the Armin Arlert you had been prepared for, with glasses and giant t-shirts with references to video games you didn’t know of. The blush on his cheeks has returned, and he’s leaning on the wall your bed is next to. 

You crawl up closer to him, needing to observe him in greater detail. Maybe he was a nymph. Or a human with gifts from god. If either of those, you’d be able to see his human appearance shimmer to reveal the glamour that non-gods had when they tried to fit onto Earth amongst mortals. 

You gaze into his glittering blue eyes, the light dusting of tan freckles on his nose. He looks back at you, no longer commanding and challenging, but shy and docile. His eyes briefly stray down to the swoop of your breasts, your goddess robes not hiding the curves of your flesh at all. You might as well be naked. And, oh do you plan to. His lips are soft and smooth and pink, the middle glossy from your spit, making them seem plush and ready for biting. Oh,  _ gods above _ . You want to bite him. 

And so you do. You tilt your face onto his lips, parting your lips to kiss him decadently, tasting his lips. His earlier brutal kiss, a result of his … other persona, had been sexy. But this was sensual, slow, absorbing.

“Ar-i-min,” you say, breathing his name. “Do you want  _ me _ to punish you?” You’re delirious with need. Earlier, you had wanted to be dominated. But now, seeing his weak and willing face, the redness dusting his ears and cheeks, his huffs of breath — you want to ruin him. You want him to cry out loud as you sink onto his cock. 

“Please,” he breathes. You grin. You undo the tie of your robes, using magic to vanish the silken fabric. Realizing your access to your magic, you debate using it to vanish his clothes off his body. But you want him flustered.

You run your hands up his sides, starting from the sides of his hips. He turns away from you, and you slap his hardening cock through his pants.

“Look at me, Armin,” you command, relishing in the fact that  _ he’s _ the one being commanded by you. He turns to you, swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You hook a finger under his shirt, and slip it off him, ruffling his blond hair more. You unbuckle his pants, slipping them off his hips.

“C-condom,” Armin says, unable to form the question.

You laugh. “I’m a goddess.” That’s enough explanation, you hope. 

“Goddess,” Armin breathes. “Yes. You’re a goddess.” He looks at you, starry eyed. You preen under his adoring gaze. Was it a god complex if you were literally a god?

You are impressed by the sizable cock of his in his boxers. When you take his boxers off, the appendage springs up, and you lick your lips at the bead of precum at the top.

“Y’know,” you begin. “ _ You _ should be the one pleasuring me.”

Armin blinks.

“But just this once — I’ll be the one to,” you say, wanting to see him fall apart in your mouth. Before he can protest and release the words he is preparing, you swoop down, mouth clamping over his girth, swirling your tongue over the tip. The taste of tangy salt, so  _ human _ fills your mouth, but your taste is not the sense perked up right now. 

It’s your hearing.

Little groans, breathy garbles are coming out of Armin, and his fingers curl into your hair. 

“Ye—ugh!” He whispers. You want him yelling, and so you suction on his head before releasing it with a pop. You stick your hand out near his mouth.

“Spit,” you command. He listens, eyes lidded and lips parted. You use the spit as lubrication to use your hands along with your mouth, getting messy around his cock, getting faster and sucking tighter the louder he gets. 

“Louder, Armin,” you say, licking your lips as you look up to him. “Yell for me. Beg for me.” 

“Nghh,” Armin says, hips snapping when you kiss his tip gently, hands still pumping. “ _ Please _ , goddess.”

You smile, pleased. “That’s what I like to hear.” You go back to your motions of tongue and touch, growing wetter and more aroused by the second on account of his sounds and his pulling on your hair, the jolts of his body under yours. 

“W-wait. I — don’t want to cum,” Armin says. “I mean — I mean that I want you to cum with me.” He’s so shy, even with your cock in his mouth. 

You had originally been planning on making him cum first before filling yourself up with him. But. Since he so nicely asked, you don’t even warn him before positioning yourself over him and plunging down like a piston. 

“Fuck!” Armin yells, and you would be relishing in more pleasure if it were for the fact that the feeling of his thick length has reduced your thoughts to mush. Fucking hell. The merits of mortal flesh. 

You sink and rise on his dick slowly, drawing out the feelings he draws in you. His hands clamp around your hips and he guides your motions, the both of you moving your hips to make the separation go into combination faster. Before long, you can feel yourself on the brink of orgasm. 

“I’m cumming,” you breathe, eyes rolling back when his head hits a sensitive spot within you. You try to angle your hips at that angle again, knowing that another swipe there would be enough to send you over. 

And just as you’re about to be filled up by him again, his hands tighten around your hips, holding you up in the air, your slick dripping out of you and stringing over his cock, pink and straining. 

“Now, you nymph,” says a commanding voice, making your eyes widen. “If you want to cum on my cock like the dumb whore you are, you’re going to tell me everything.”

You gasp. “Armin?”

“Still me,” he says, staring at you with a smile. Maybe a smirk, judging by the gleam in his eyes. “Was me the whole time.”

“But—but—”

He licks his lips. “I don’t always have to be dominant,” he says. “I can be both. And what about you?” His gaze is so compelling you can’t help your next words.

“For you, I can be anything,” you say, as if praying to a god. Despite being one, in Armin’s presence, you feel like a mortal yourself. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says, sinking you down on his cock slowly. Maybe it’s a trick of your mind, but this feels entirely different, and you know that the force of your newly building orgasm is going to shatter you. “But, my little nymph, you should know my command still stands. Tell me.” He doesn’t let you move on his hips.

You can’t help the tumbling out of information now, either. “It was a challenge from the other minor gods of sin. To corrupt Armin Arlert. I wasn’t there when they chose your string of fate, so I couldn’t tamper with the selection process,” you summarize.

“Hmm,” Armin hums. “So you didn’t come to hurt me?” 

You frown. “No. Just to take you to the Underworld.” 

His grin is slowly stretching, revealing pearly whites, canines sharp. You want him to bite you now. 

“I’ll be going to the Underworld, and we’ll see about those mindless fucks,” he thinks aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, pet,” he says, cupping your cheek. “I’m taking over Erwin’s position.” 

Your jaw drops. No fucking way. No  _ fucking _ way. 

“And I’m surprised they didn’t tell you. Minor gods and goddesses are preparing for the ceremony.” 

“I—I tend to seclude myself,” you admit. “They came by and … I suppose it was to trick me. Into being punished by you for mortal interaction.” 

He laughs, and the sound vibrates against your body. It’s gentle, but still booming, still engulfing, on account of his sheer presence. The new god of the Underworld. And he was your lover.

“Would you like to be punished?” Armin asks, speaking your name, grinding his cock into you.

“Yes!” you gasp. “Please, sir.”

“Call me your god, then,” Armin challenges, wrapping one hand into strands of your hair and the other around your hips, guiding you up and down over his cock. “A god fit for your cunt.”

“Mmmm,” you moan, your head getting pulled back as he pulls on your hair. Your throat is exposed to him, and he licks a long stripe up to your mouth, kissing your moans. “A god. You’re a god, my god, and you feel. So. Good. It’s so sinful.”

“My, my. Sinful? Coming from a goddess of sin?” He breathes, biting onto your throat, massaging the bite with his wet tongue. 

“I’m not the only one,” you say, shivering at the violent biting. “There are others. Hence the minor.” You gasp when Armin flips you around, him now on top, you laying spread over the pillows.

Armin looks down at you with reverence, his darling eyes roving over your features. He cups your breasts with one hand, pinching the nipple of one as he plunges into you. 

“You’ll be the only one,” he says, when you cry out. “My goddess of sin.” 

You gasp. “You can’t be seriou—ugh!” Your words of surprise blend into a litany of groans and moans as he pulls in and out of you quickly, no longer choosing to be languid. 

“Faster, Armin,” you cry, even if you don’t know how he could possibly be faster than this. You continue to beg as he somehow picks up the pace, grunting deeply, his voice straining, your words scrambling as his body short circuits your brain. 

“How do you feel?”

“So so so good,” you warble, mouth falling open to allow for your yells. You can’t believe you’re going for this long. “Ngh!” 

“My dumb little whore,” he notes, slowing his pace, drawing out new sensations as he rocks into you slowly now. “But can’t get enough of your cunt.” And back to his violent, lightning quick pace, and you don’t know how your cunt isn’t burning from the friction. But you, you’re burning up, a heat growing inside you brought on by this man’s flames. 

“Fuuucckk,” you cry. 

“Keep going, pet, call out my name,” Armin says, hands stroking the indents of your rib cage as you contort your body wildly. 

“Armin, Armin, Armin,” you repeat, seeing stars. His hands ghost over your throat, and you long for them to curve around your neck. You bring up a hand to his wrist, trying to get his hands to linger on your throat, a nonverbal command.

“Wanna be choked?” Armin asks. You nod, face hot. “My goddess asks and I oblige.” Yet his hands did not press into you.

Instead, his magic clamped around your throat slowly, pleasuring, as your breath ceased to flow normally. There was a pounding in your head amongst the sparks Armin made you see, and the two feelings intensified as they were brought together.

“Cum for me, beautiful,” Armin coos. You shake your head, mouth fruitlessly opening for words that couldn’t come out. Armin’s magic releases, and instead travels all over your skin, like simultaneous touches everywhere. Vibrations on your nipples, your navel, your clit. Your walls begin clamping around Armin with a ferocity, and he hissed as he came. You follow: your every nerve hums, and as you cum you feel like you are reborn anew, suddenly feeling and sensing everything with a new degree of understanding.

Armin doesn’t collapse next to you. Instead, he turns you around, you by his side and he by yours. 

“We’ll do what gods of sin do best,” he says, kissing next to the shell of your ear, stroking over the surface of your cunt, before slipping inside to find your clit, pressing and prodding the sensitive bud. 

“Wh-ah!” He pushes his cock, hard again, into you, your mouth curving into an ‘o’ shape. What do gods of sin do best?” you asked, knowing exactly what he was implying. 

“Let’s find out.” 

* * *

**~fin~**

* * *


End file.
